


Slither and Purr

by Bunnyhops, SaintDionysus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marriage, Marriage Contracts, Marriage Proposal, Mild Smut, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Sex, Smut, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 00:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnyhops/pseuds/Bunnyhops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDionysus/pseuds/SaintDionysus
Summary: The Marriage Law has come into effect, much to Hermione Granger’s dismay. When she finds herself falling for not one, but two of her suitors, what’s a girl to do? Take a page out of the Slytherin handbook, that's what.Lots of love to our betaMrBenzedrine89Winner Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Partner Collaborative Writing ChallengeFirst Place: Best Relationship Development, Best Plot Development, Favorite Pairing, Overall Favorite Story, Best Smut, and Best ThreesomeRunner Up: Favorite Prompt, Most Creative Use of PromptOriginal Prompt:2. Prompt: Blindsided by the Ministry's new Marriage Law, Hermione suddenly finds herself as the most eligible bachelorette in Wizarding London. With not one, but two possible suitors, she has to decide what she wants most, or rather, who.Pairing(s): Hermione/Theo, Hermione/Blaise, Hermione/Theo/Blaise





	Slither and Purr

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxDustNight88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/gifts).



__

_Failure._ That’s what Hermione Granger felt as she trudged back up to her office with her head pounding in frustration and disappointment. Six months of research. Six months of testimony. Six months of being under the microscope of the Wizengamot and all of Wizarding society—all for nothing. She’d done everything she could to prevent this marriage law from happening. Did she want pureblood society integrated with muggleborns and half-bloods? Of course, but not at the cost of being forced into marriage, with very little choice in the matter, all while in the prime of her life.

She grumbled to herself as she walked through the halls of the Ministry, riding up and down the lifts. She thought to herself, _The gall of the Wizengamot to impose a law, mandating all wizards and witches to be married and procreating before the ink on the marriage certificate is dry! Oh! And we can’t just marry anyone we want. Noooooo! It has to be a pureblood matched with a muggleborn or half-blood. I feel like a bloody panda in some inter-zoo breeding program._ _Diversifying the gene pool, my arse. I bet some horny bastard gets their rocks off with some muggleborn fetish._

Hermione thought she found a loophole with the assumption that everyone would agree to a heterosexual marriage. This was her last chance to combat this law. She had brought her friends, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, and another couple, Susan Bones and Millicent Bulstrode, as same-sex marriage advocates. If the Ministry forced the LGBT community into heterosexual relationships, the public uproar would see this as more discrimination. She knew her argument was solid—marriage law was archaic and took away equal rights. But _he_ had a rebuttal. _He_ always had a rebuttal. _He_ suggested same-sex marriage would still be acceptable under the new marriage law, but gay and lesbian couples would take part in an exchange of sorts. Men would father children by a sort of magical artificial insemination, and both women would carry. Hermione argued how none of this could be considered part of healthy, modern-day relationships and fertility practices. But all her arguments were overshadowed by _his_ charisma and influence.  

Blaise Zabini, with his cocky arrogance and razor wit, managed to outsmart Hermione at every turn—something she wasn’t used to. They formed a bond when they both started in the department after graduating from Hogwarts; then, she viewed him as an ally, not an adversary. But when the Marriage Law bill came to the Wizengamot floor, she had no idea that he felt so strongly in favor of it and how many purebloods he would bring to his side. The Wizengamot was putty in his hands. Not even her war-heroine status could help her. The only thing she was able to achieve was to push back her own deadline. Instead of marrying in three months time, at the start of the New Year, she now had until her twenty-fifth birthday in September. _Because finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with is so easy to do when you’re on a deadline,_ she continued to gripe.

Hermione unlocked the door to her office by key, as her wand was holding her hair together in a haphazardly twisted knot. She rolled her shoulders back and rubbed out the tension. It wasn’t until that moment Hermione wished she had a boyfriend to give her a massage, or at least a good stress-relieving shag.

“God, I miss sex,” she said aloud to no one in particular.

It had been three years since she and Ron had broken up. She dated here and there. Just a few flings—incredible, mind-blowing flings—but no one she could imagine being married to. _I guess I better give them a second look,_ she thought. If she had to get married, she at least knew who was a good lay and who wasn’t.

She walked over to her bar and poured herself a firewhisky before heading to her desk and started rattling off names. “Let’s see, Cormac? No, just got engaged to that one girl from the Harpies. Shame.” She leaned back in her chair and continued to think out loud, “Michael Corner? Always knew how to get me going — oh, but he has that weird lean to the right. Marcus? He’s always traveling. Viktor? Yeah... I’m not moving to Bulgaria. Draco? Merlin, the hate sex with him was great, but we could never have a conversation without screaming. Theo? Hmm...Theo. Yeah. He’s fun. Smart, too…”

Hermione tried to be cool with a drink in her hand, reclining in her chair with feet up on her desk, and thought about her last date with Theo. She closed her eyes, remembering the way his hand guided hers up the slit in her gown at the opera. He loved a good show, and she wasn’t talking about the sopranos and tenors. He watched her touch and fondle herself in their private box. She recalled the way his mouth felt between her legs, leaning further back in her chair as if he were actually there. Screaming, she fell backward out of her chair and spilled her drink all over her blouse.

“Damn it! I’m all wet!” _In more ways than one, Hermione._ “Oh, shut up!” she yelled at her subconscious.

She unbuttoned her shirt and fanned it dry. Frantically, she patted around her desk, looking for her wand, and spilled a bottle of ink in the process. “You’ve got to be kidding!” she exclaimed and rubbed her temple, not realizing she was smearing ink all over face. She scratched her head, wondering where that wand could be and found it.

“I’m an idiot,” she sighed. As she pulled the wand out of her bun and shook the curls free, her door flung open, and she was assaulted by the flashes of the Daily Prophet Cameras.

Hermione’s mouth hung open, realizing she was covered in alcohol and ink, her shirt  unbuttoned and exposing her bra.

“Miss Granger—” the reporter started.

“OUT!” she yelled.

“How does it feel knowing you’re now the most eligible witch in London?” the reporter persisted.

“I—what?” she questioned, still gobsmacked. Attempting to reclaim some of her dignity, she buttoned and dried her blouse with magic.

“As a war heroine and a muggle-born, you’re the top pick for every pureblood bachelor.” He braced himself in the door jamb, knowing he would be chucked out any second now.

“No comment.” She pointed her wand at him. “Now, kindly remove yourself from my office, or I’ll do it for you.”

The mousy man scrambled out of her office, knowing full well the last reporter that crossed her got trapped in a jar—and that was when Miss Granger was a child. He didn’t care to see what she was capable of as an adult.

Thoroughly annoyed by the events of the day, she grabbed her things and set to floo home. She had already decided when she got home she would owl Theo, hop in the bath, then drink red wine while reading a trashy romance novel.

**—OoO—**

The next morning, she woke to the rapping of an owl at her window with The Daily Prophet in its mouth. She placed a few sickles in its pouch for payment, and then it flew away. As she unfolded the paper, her face went pale. Printed on the front page was a moving photo of herself with her curls whipping from side to side, her lace covered tits peeking out of the white blouse and her face looking seductive as she tried to rub the ink off her face. If the photo wasn’t bad enough, the headline was the icing on the cake.

 

LONDON’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELORETTE  
HERMIONE GRANGER  
HOT HEROINE ON THE HUNT FOR A HUNK

 

 _“Incendio_!” she hissed, flicking her wand rather dramatically, setting the post on fire.  Hermione fumed as she watched the ash drop lazily to the floor.  She felt like stomping on them just for good measure, but instead waved her wand and cleaned the mess.

She was at a loss for what to do.  She could Avada the reporter who happened by and took those ghastly pictures, or she could find out who wrote the column and murder them — or even the witch or wizard who had authorized the publication.  There were a thousand options, but none were realistic, and none would get her out of this mess of having to marry a pureblood wizard whom she didn’t love, but with who she would spend her life.

Looking at the time, she huffed and rushed to her morning ablutions.  It would be an interesting day at work, if the morning was any indicator.

**—OoO—**

“‘Mione!”  someone called, but she didn’t stop.  “‘Mione!” they called again, out of breath.  It was Ron, and he’d been running from across the atrium.  When he reached her, he touched her shoulder.  “Did you see the post?  You’re famous!” he chirped with his infectious broad smile.  

“I was already famous, Ronald, as were you.”

He shuffled his feet casually.

Her breath caught; _oh no!_ Hermione knew the second it happened. He had made a decision, and she recognized the process of him actually executing said decision.

“‘Mione… you and me… we—”

“No,” Hermione interrupted him, shaking her head.  “Not going to happen, so _don't_ ask me.” It was said with an air of irritated finality.  She didn’t want to hurt him; they were close friends after all, but she wouldn't marry him, either.

Ron closed his mouth with a click of his teeth and nodded.  He didn’t look disappointed exactly — more embarrassed, if anything.  She knew why he asked.  Ron couldn't stay away from his adoration of her, and if he thought that Hermione was the most sought-after witch ( _after it was so boldly published without her consent!_ ), he would test the waters of getting back together.  The public had practically been in mourning after learning their relationship ended.  Post after post and sympathy letter after sympathy letter, and for her, Howlers galore. She knew that their fans would absolutely love to see their favorite couple back on and engaged to be married, forced or not.

With nothing left to say, Ron nodded and looked up at her, smiling.  “Okay, ‘Mione, let me know if you need anything. We’re in for a bumpy ride.”  She was about to smile back and nod in agreement, but his smile faded as he looked passed her.  He took a short breath.

“Bumpy starts now.  Are you ready?”

Slowly, she turned to see what caused him to pale — a group of wizards were heading her way.  Some of them were journalists, some were wizards she recognized, and some were men she didn’t know at all.  All were making a beeline to her and Ron.

Ron stepped in front of her and told them, in his best, most authoritative Auror voice, to stop.  Hermione took a moment to ponder that voice of his. She hadn’t realized he had it in him, and decided that she liked the sound of it… a lot.

Everyone indeed stopped, but flashes from cameras were going off, and everyone was talking at once.

She squinted and flinched away from the commotion but couldn't leave entirely.

“Miss Granger, any comments on today’s post?” one reporter asked, looking eager and twitching his finger to move the self-writing quills closer so he caught every word.

Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled.  Someone was getting hexed, and she didn’t much care who it was at this point. Luckily, Ron sensed impending doom and, once again he bellowed for them to back away and that Hermione wouldn't be answering any questions.

That was when a tall man, adorned in purple robes and an old fashioned wizard’s hat in the shape of a cone, stepped forward with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, following right behind.

Still with her eyes closed and hiding behind Ron, she peeked through one eye at the sudden silence and Ron’s quick stand at attention. “‘Mione, you’re gonna wanna see this,” he said, urging her out from behind him, his hands on her shoulders.

Still leery of the pack of feral wizards, she nodded in greeting to the Minister and eyed the purple-dressed wizard, who looked to be north of 145 years of age.

“Mizzzz Geerranger,” he dragged out the z’s, added a syllable, and rolled the r’s — then he had the nerve to look like he wondered why all the fuss was with her.

Meeting his imperious stance, she raised her chin. “Yes.  And you are?”

“Filleygrew Omplehumpf, at yooourrrr serrrviccccce.”  He bent at the waist for a brief bow, waiting.

Blinking, Hermione looked to Kingsley for clarification.

Making a face that conveyed irritation at the older wizard, he spoke. “Due to the numerous proposal bonding contracts for your hand, Hermione, the Ministry has decided to appoint you a liaison to help you with organizing and orchestrating the selection.”

**—OoO—**

Theo Nott looked at the scene in the middle of the atrium with some amount of humor and compassion for the witch on the auction block.  He shook his head and thanked the Gods above that Hermione hadn’t hexed anyone yet.  

He actually stifled the laugh that fought to come out when the Minister told her that she had been appointed an aide to help _her_ organize.

Theo stood and sighed, picked invisible lint off his tailored black robes, and then went to save the little swot.

He pushed his way through the growing crowd, coming up behind Hermione and the Weasel.  

“Granger.” Theo’s voice was deep, soft, and very distinguishable.  

She turned immediately and smiled in relief. “Theo,” she practically sang.

He looked around and smirked. “Brunch?” Holding out his hand, she took it immediately and with a pop, they Disapparated.

“Bugger!” Ron muttered.

**—OoO—**

They reached their destination and there wasn’t a scrap of food in sight.  

Hermione sighed in relief and breezed into his home as if she owned it.  Pulling off her scarf and turning her head just enough to ensure that Theo followed, she walked into the den and plopped down on the leather chair, _his_ leather chair, like a queen holding court.  

“Theo, do be a dear and offer me some wine,” she said with a kittenish smile.

He smirked. “‘Tis only 11:00, my lady.  It’s positively indecent to imbibe at this hour!” he  beseeched in his posh manner.  

She dramatically flicked back her hair and sighed, looking at him with narrowed eyes and a wicked smile. “Yes, Theo, let’s be positively indecent!”

Theo snapped his fingers.  An elf popped in a second later and waited for instruction.

It took a moment for the two to acknowledge its presence, as they were sharing a rather smouldering gaze between them, making the elf shift balance from one foot to another in discomfort.  Finally, it cleared its throat.

“Ah, Viceroy, please bring the lady a glass of white wine and myself a bourbon, straight up.”

Viceroy bowed, but didn’t speak.  He did, however, mutter about the loss of etiquette with the youth in this day and age. He opted to send the tray instead of returning with it.

Theo shook his head and smiled when the tray appeared on the side table.  He knew that Viceroy was rather old-fashioned and, well, ancient; the elf had been with his family since Theo’s grandfather was a boy.

Theo stood and watched Hermione slowly shift her legs, showing off her pale skin, making it more difficult by the moment for Theo to both think straight and finish his bourbon.

Having only taken a small sip of her wine, Hermione stood and sashayed over to him. “Theo,” she whispered.  She needn’t say any more as Theo immediately pulled her into a scorching kiss, and she remembered, right before her knees melted, that Theo smelled downright decadent.  

When he broke the kiss, he smiled. “Hello, Granger.”

Returning the glimmering expression and jumping up to wrap her legs around his slender waist, she greeted him in kind. “Hello, Theo.”

In the next moment, Theo walked them, kissing and grinding, to the hallway where he could properly hold her in place and unbuckle his trousers.  

Once her back hit the wall, Hermione whispered a spell, freeing his cock from its confines.

Theo grunted and chuckled. “Clever witch.”

“Yes, Yes, Theo, _brightest witch of my age_. Now, stop talking and kiss me again.” Her words were rushed and throaty and spoken in between frenzied kisses, and it effectively pushed Theo into action. He squeezed the round globes of her bum and pulled them apart, knowing that it turned her on.

She moaned and pulled her knees tighter around his waist.

He had barely enough space to move her knickers to the side and plunge himself, bollocks deep into her hot, wet pussy.

“Yeeeessssss,” was the last coherent word she was able to utter until much later when they made their way to her bedroom for an early afternoon nap. 

**—OoO—**

_Today was supposed to be the day_ , Blaise Zabini thought to himself as he stormed into his office and threw the bouquet of peonies he bought for Hermione against the wall. He was livid to find out that his mate, Theo, had literally whisked her off her feet in the middle of the Ministry Atrium in front of hundreds of people including the press, apparating to Merlin-knows-where.

“Probably shagging her right now,” he seethed.

Blaise paced back and forth. Everything was so well planned out and carefully orchestrated. This was years in the making, and that sod Theo could ruin it all.

He took out a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote the following:

_Theo,_

_We need to talk._

_Blaise_

He folded up the parchment and stuffed it into an envelope, sealing it with his family crest instead of the Ministry seal. Blaise wanted Theo to know this was a personal matter.

Once the wax had hardened, Blaise made his way to the Ministry Owlery and found his owl, Mercury. The great gray owl chirped cheerfully, glad to see his owner. Blaise scratched the bird’s feathers affectionately and gave him a treat. “I need you to find Theo and give this to him. If you bite him, I’ll reward you.”

The bird tilted his head curiously and hooted. Blaise wasn’t positive Mercury understood him, but he loved the animal, nonetheless. One more nuzzle under his owner’s hand, and the owl was off to complete his task.

Blaise tucked his hands in his pockets and headed back to his office to wait for a response. He didn’t expect a reply from Theo for several hours. _Hell, if I had Granger right now, I would take my time, too_ , he thought.

**—OoO—**

It wasn’t until after dinner that Blaise finally received a floo call from Theo.

With a smug arrogance, Theo drawled, “Blaise. Mate. What’s going on?”

“Just come through the floo. We’ll have a little chat over this new firewhiskey, or bourbon rather—single-barrel, distilled in Kentucky,” Blaise said, trying to entice his friend.

“I’m completely knackered, and I’m just wearing a housecoat. Come round mine,” Theo suggested as he yawned.

Blaise conceded. There was no convincing Theo’s lazy arse to get up. “Granger still there?”

Even through the glowing embers, Theo’s smirk was unmistakeable. “She left, or should I say _waddled_ out of here about half an hour ago. Merlin, I missed that witch. If she wasn't so damn brilliant, she would have had quite the career as a jockey.”

Quick to change the subject, Blaise asked, “Are you decent enough for me to come over?”

“Give me fifteen minutes. I need to have Viceroy straighten up. Poor house elf. Granger is an absolute minx. Her arse prints are on my desk, she broke the chaise lounge, and she ripped the curtains down,” Theo bragged his exploits.

“Yeah, alright,” Blaise replied flatly. “See you in fifteen.”

“See you then. Gotta find some pants.” Theo’s face left, and the crackling fire returned to normal.

“Arsehole.” A jealous rage came over Blaise, but he had to stay cool. He had thought about it all day. Instead of being an obstacle, Theo could be an asset, a partner. They were best friends after all. Blaise knew he couldn’t compete with Theo’s playful nature. Hermione needed balance in her life and Theo brought levity, but that wouldn’t be enough to keep her happy. She needed stability and responsibility, which Theo lacked. In Blaise’s mind, there was only one option.

His watch ticked slowly as he waited for the fifteen minutes to pass and sipped on his bourbon impatiently. When time was up, he floo’d over to Nott Park to find a shirtless Theo wearing striped pajama bottoms, lighting up a joint.

“Ah, Blaise. Right on time.” He took a hit and passed it to his friend.

Blaise licked his lips, knowing the relaxing vapors would be most welcome after a day like today. He drew in the smoke deeply and started coughing. “That’s some good shit, Theo.”

“Yeah, stole it from the MLE evidence room,” he laughed, taking the joint back from Blaise before he took another hit. “Potter caught me, but he didn’t care. He’s a good guy. I tried to get Hermione to smoke with me earlier. I really wanted to see her mouth around a bong. She refused. Insead she showed me other things with her mouth.”

“Well, Hermione’s the reason I’ve come to you,” Blaise said flatly.

Theo’s eyebrow quirked, “Go on.”

“Why do you think you didn’t work out the first time?” Blaise inquired.

“It’s not that we didn’t work out. We just got incredibly busy, and our work consumed us. I had to investigate the pureblood infertility case, and you know that sparked the Marriage Bill, now _law_ , which took all of Hermione’s time. But time has freed up, she owled me last night, and things are back in motion.” He stretched and leaned back into the plush sofa. Theo looked over at his friend who now donned a sinister smile. “Blaise...is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Maybe…”

“Spit it out.”

“Who were the first to report infertility issues?”

“Daphne and Adrian.”

“And the second?”

“Pansy and Montague.”

“Who are they all with now?”

“Daphne is with a chap named Clearwater.”

“What is his blood status?”

“Half-blood.”

“The rest?”

“They’re all with muggleborns and half-bloods…”

“And when did the reports start coming out?”

“Oh, late Spring, I suppose. May...after the anniversary gala... Blaise, are you telling me you have something to do with this?”

Blaise shrugged and said, “Yeah. It took me years to figure out the curse. It was a combination of potions to spells, so it only affects pureblood couplings, but it wears off after a generation. The Battle of Hogwarts Gala was the best time to administer the potion and cast the curse.”

Theo looked at Blaise puzzled. “Why? Why do something so drastic?”

“Because I wanted all of us to be able to break our betrothal contracts and get out of shit marriages. Daph and Pans both wanted out, so I helped them, but I also had my motives—I want to marry Granger.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but she chose me, Blaise,” a twinge of possessiveness was heard in Theo’s voice.

“Hear me out. I’ve been watching Granger for years. She isn’t easily satisfied and hasn’t found all the qualities she wants in one man. Be honest with yourself. If it was really meant to be, she wouldn’t have let so much time lapse between when you first started dating and now. Would she?”

Theo swallowed the bitter pill of truth and said, “Your point?”

“Weasley is caring and humorous. I’m caring, you’re funny. McLaggen is athletic and well-connected, and we both know that’s me. Corner is brainy and inquisitive, that’s you. Malfoy is an arsehole but he challenged her, and she doesn’t want someone who will make things easy. We both know we are capable of that. Add our good looks, money, sophistication, and we are perfect for her.”

“Aww, Blaisey. I’m flattered. I knew you always had a thing for me,” Theo winked. “I mean, sounds logical. She’s insatiable and honest to God, I would rather share her than lose her again. I assume you have a plan. And the law?”

Blaise smacked his lips. “Of course I have a plan. We both woo her at the same time. Be honest and upfront that she should consider both of us. Let her think she has a choice, then, at the right moment, when she’s torn and thinks she can’t live without either of us, tell her she can have both. You see, there is a loophole in the law. We never specified how many spouses you can have, just that the marriage is integrated. What do you say?”

“Let the games begin.”

**—OoO—**

Hermione lifted one long, sexy leg from the bubbles. She touched her ankle with slick hands and ran them slowly down down her calf to mid thigh while breathing a sigh of satisfaction.

She had been thoroughly fucked by Theo and now lay in the tub, completely spent. Closing her eyes, she let the warmth of the water loosen her tight muscles (she’d had quite a workout after all) and smiled at the memory, expecting flashes of a ruffled, sexual Theo Nott. It definitely took her mind of _Him_ .  Lately, he’d been occupying her thoughts at all times of day.  How he could be so well versed in ancient laws regarding marriage rites and rituals.  She wondered where he got the fervor with which to fight her on every single argument and counterargument against the marriage law.  He had infuriated her, but even so, she _knew_ Blaise. She knew he was a passionate wizard and his ardor, arrogance, and intelligence appealed to her in a way that others hadn’t.   

Hermione shook her head. She was supposed to be relaxing in the bath, thinking about Theo’s tussled hair and strong hands.  So, she closed her eyes and sighed once more.

In the next moment, she rather abruptly sat up, causing the water to splash to the floor.  Her posture rigid, she wore a confused and irritated expression on her face. It was not the memory of watching Theo’s cock push inside and out of her, but of Blaise.  She’d pictured Blaise and the stupid smirk he’d worn during her campaign against the Marriage Bill. It was Blaise’s head she pictured between her legs, licking and tasting.  It was Blaise’s lips suckling her clit.  It was Blaise.   _Shit_!

Draining the tub, she dried off and headed to her bedroom.  She needed to think... _about everything_.

This Marriage Bill was a nightmare.  It occurred to her that she should not have been so rash in dismissing the Ministry liaison Kingsley had offered; though, she was positively certain _that_ professional collaboration would have ended badly.

Hermione dressed while looking at the neatly stacked pile of parchment that represented the _interested parties_ for her hand in marriage.

Plopping down in her chair, her mind drifted towards Blaise and Theo.  She liked them both — or rather, she liked Theo; Blaise was currently on her shit list.  She wondered what in the world prompted Blaise to be such an outspoken advocate for the travesty they called a ‘Marriage Bill’.  Honestly, Hermione had thought that Blaise would have accepted the consequences for not complying and left the country given the numerous marriages his mother had endeavored during his youth.

Hermione smiled when she recalled the times that she and Blaise had shared some years ago.  One outing in particular, she had dragged him to a small museum in Eastwood, Nottinghamshire. He’d been reluctant at first, but when she began speaking about DH Lawrence and his life, then Blaise had engaged in what he knew of poets and authors and pulled her towards other points of interest.  It had been a magical time that Hermione fondly remembered. He was so sweet, nothing like the man who’d been making her life hell.

Just then, her wards chimed. Furrowing her brows, she walked to the front door and opened it.  A delivery elf was waiting for her to take the small package and sign for it by giving her magical signature with her wand.  He was tapping his small foot impatiently; he had other deliveries to make.

“Just a moment, please,” she said and grabbed her wand from the bedroom.  A moment later, the signature was logged, and the elf popped out with a nod.  

Hermione tilted her head and turned the package this way and that.  It was a book, that much was obvious, but she didn’t remember placing an order with Flourish and Blotts.

Once again she waved her wand, checking for nefarious charms and any dark magic, but found nothing.  Coming to a decision, she opened the brown wrapping and inhaled sharply at her discovery: Lady Chatterley’s Lover.  It was an unexpurgated edition that had not been published openly in the United Kingdom until 1960.  Hermione gently opened the cover and looked at the title page. _This book was published in 1928_.  Immediately bringing the book up to her nose, Hermione inhaled the scent and grinned.  It was glorious.  She pulled the small card that was tucked inside and read it aloud.

_Hermione,_

_Happened across this gem on my travels to Turkey.  Enjoy!_

_Yours,_

_Blaise._

Hermione laughed out loud.  “Think of the devil, and he shall appear!” she muttered.  

While she was planning to go through the marriage proposals, she instead made a cuppa and got comfortable.  She would spend some time getting reacquainted with Lady Chatterley and put some thought on how to properly thank Blaise.

Things were definitely looking up.  Just yesterday she’d been missing sex, and today, she’d already been shagged out of her mind, and another wizard was sending her treasured gifts. Blaise was on his way to being off the ‘naughty’ list and on the ‘nice’ list.

**—OoO—**

Cutting a small bite of steak, holding his knife and fork just so, he brought it to his mouth.  Hermione was always so impressed by his incredible table manners; not that she wasn’t _mannerly_ , but his were impeccable.

Draco chewed his food, trying to rationalize what Hermione told him. This situation was strange to her as well, but at the moment, he was the perfect person to speak about this little _conundrum_ of hers.  “So neither wizard has submitted a proposal, and you want them to, is that correct?  You’ve shagged the Hell out of Theo, judging by his sluggish but content demeanor this morning, and you’re lusting after Blaise… _again_.  Is that right? In all of this, you don’t want to burn any bridge, as it were, nor do you want to be obvious.”

Hermione nodded.  “About sums it up quite nicely.”

Draco looked at her, scowling...sort of. “Why am I here exactly?  Am I included in this little _ménage à trois_?”  He smirked then and lifted an eyebrow.

“No.”

When his face fell a bit, she offered him a kind smile. “Don’t get me wrong. Hate sex with you was outstanding, but we would be miserable, and one of us would end up in Azkaban.”

“No different than my parents’ marriage,” he winked. “What then?”

“You’re Slytherin. They’re Slytherin.  I need some guidance.”

Draco took a deep breath and thought about her request.  He also weighed the impact of Theo and Blaise, who were his mates from childhood, finding out that he’d had a hand in their _coordinated efforts_ with and subsequent acquiescence to Granger. He decided that they would forgive him, and maybe—if she worked them right—they would thank him.

“Let them both woo you at the same time.  You can be honest and upfront.  Tell them that you are seeing both blokes, but don’t be transparent.  Then, at the right moment, you act like you’re torn and conflicted and gush about how you can't live without either of them.  Make them believe that it is their choice to have an integrated marriage.  Make them feel _good_ about sharing you.”

She was smiling and nodding and loving what he was saying.  Before Hermione told him that he was the most brilliant wizard ever, Draco added, “Besides, the law doesn’t specify the number of spouses, only that the marriage is mixed.”

“You want me to feign indecisive damsel in distress and let them drive the solution?”

He put the fork down. “Exactly.”

Hermione laughed out loud, throwing her head back and clapping her hands.  “Excellent, Malfoy!  I just knew you were the right sort.”

Draco laughed with her right before he said, “Let’s talk about hate sex.”

Hermione offered him a sympathetic look and shook her head. “Sorry Malfoy, but I don’t hate you anymore.”

**—OoO—**

Hermione invited both men to dinner at a trendy Japanese restaurant called _Sakura._ They arrived together and were awaiting her arrival.

“You think she’s ready to tell us she wants to see us both?” Theo asked.

“That, or she’s figured out the game and doesn’t like it,” Blaise gulped, hoping that wasn’t the case.

It was then she walked in, wearing a form-fitting red dress with a low neckline accented with gold jewelry. She wore hair down with one side pinned up and out of her face. Her curls were relaxed and bounced with every clack of her stilettos. Wearing her old house colors, she made a statement to these boys she wasn’t afraid of anything. The lioness was ready to pounce.

The men practically leaped out of their seats to pull out her chair. They both kissed her hand and tucked her seat in, sitting across from her like good little boys.

After an exchange of pleasantries, the waiter took their order and returned with their drinks. With a martini in her hand, she told them, “I have a proposition for you.”

Blaise and Theo kept their poker faces as she explained she would like to see both of them but wanted to make sure they were aware of it. When they agreed with no resistance, Hermione was taken aback. She was sure that one of them would object.

“Now this arrangement,” Theo started, “how does this affect our current sexual relationship?”

Blaise interjected, “As long as we are all consenting adults, I see nothing wrong.”

Hermione’s lip curled into a wicked smile. “I love that you two know how to share.”

They all had smug faces, not realizing they were all working out of the same playbook. With this unique arrangement, they set ground rules. During the evenings, Theo saw Hermione Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and Blaise saw her Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, but they were allowed to swap days if they had something planned for consecutive outings. They all decided she needed Sunday to rest.

After dinner, she went home with Blaise. It was his day, after all.

**—OoO—**

The weeks passed, and they were no longer following the original schedule. Blaise and Theo were so collaborative in their efforts, there was no need. During the week, sometimes dinners were one-on-one; others, it was all three of them, with her going home with only one.

On the first weekend, Theo took Hermione to Barcelona to see modern art, eat tapas, drink sangria, and soak in the energy of the city. The more she was with Theo, she realized how much he loved dirty talk and seeing her pleasured. While walking the Spanish streets, Hermione dragged him into a muggle sex shop. His eyes were as wide as a third year at Honeydukes—he wanted to buy everything and have her put on a performance for him, but she restrained him and picked out a few things she knew they would both enjoy. They then stopped to purchase mobile phones. Theo was unsure of what she had in mind, but played along.

When they arrived back to their suite, she told him to stay in the sitting room while she went to the bedroom. She called his new mobile and asked him to put it on speaker. The words that came out of her mouth would make a sailor blush, but they couldn’t top what Theo said. He heard her on the other line, moaning with the hum of the vibrator in the background while he stroked himself with the new warming lubricant. With just words and self-pleasure, they managed to climax. She came out of the room and curled her finger, calling him to her—this time, he got to watch and “join her friend.”

The following weekend, Blaise whisked her off to Paris. They dined at the finest restaurants, shopped down the Champs-Élysées and the hidden wizarding alleys along it, and made the most of The City of Lights. Blaise preferred to put on a show rather than watch one. He took her to a decadent, hedonistic, members only club where they could perform acts in front of other couples.  While she rode his cock, another man tried to come up behind her, and Blaise told him that only one other cock was allowed in her, and he wasn’t it. Hermione was so proud of Blaise’s possessiveness of not only her but of Theo as well, she rode him more fervently and pleasured him into the night.

**—OoO—**

After weeks of dinners, holidays, gifts, quiet evenings, and not-so-quiet evenings, Theo and Blaise were ready to take their relationship to the next level. They had a plan, and were sure she would be surprised.  

Hermione wasn’t expecting to see Blaise pick her up, as Theo had promised he would see her that night. Blaise reassured her that plans had changed slightly, but not to fret. They Apparated to an area of London surrounded by skyscrapers. Blaise escorted them to their suite for the night.

When the doors opened, her mouth dropped in amazement. Of all the opulent places her men had taken her, this one by far had the greatest view. It was a corner suite that overlooked the river Thames on one side, and the other faced a building.

Blaise grabbed her by the waist and started kissing her, walking her backward to one of the windows.

She moaned in delight but caught herself. “Blaise, it’s not your turn.”

After running his tongue up her neck, he said, “I told you, Theo will be here.” He unzipped her dress, and it fell to the floor. The bra and knickers came off soon after that. As he made his way down to her center, her mobile rang.

“Pick it up,” he commanded playfully.

“What?” The pleasure of his tongue flicking her clit wouldn't allow her mind to register his words.

“Answer your mobile and put it on speaker.”

She summoned her phone and answered.

“Hello, darling. Having fun?”

“Theo, where are you?” she asked as Blaise returned to his ministrations.

“Blaise, show her,” Theo drawled.

He whipped her around to face the glass window. In the building across the way was Theo on his mobile.

“You cheeky boys.”

“I’ve been watching you for a while now, and I think it’s time you take care of Blaise. Take off his clothes and suck his cock.”

“You heard him,” Blaise said with a devilish smile.

“And what will you be doing, Theo?” she asked.

“Watching you. Encouraging you. Wanking,” he answered.   

With that, Hermione and Blaise did everything Theo said. She ripped off his clothes, and he grasped her hair as he coaxed his prick deeper and deeper down her throat. Hermione would look up to Blaise and then out the window at Theo.

“Do that thing where you suck my head so hard it makes a popping noise when you pull out. Yes, that. Now lick his taint. I know he likes that. You know we talk about you - the best way to pleasure you. Like the way you love having your nipples sucked when you ride us or the way you love your hair tugged from behind. It’s why you can’t live without both of us,” he strained to form words as he touched himself. “Blaise, push her up against the window. I want to see her tits on the cold glass while you fuck her.”

With a whiplike motion, they changed positions, and he rammed his cock inside her. His fingers rubbed her clit as his hips gyrated in a slow, rhythmic motion.

“Oh god! Theo! Blaise! Enough. I need both of you! Now!” she screamed.

“You heard the lady,” Blaise grunted. “One man is not enough for her.”

**—OoO—**

The evening was a blur of bodies and sweat and orgasms. It had been pleasure and pain and intimacy — it was the most satisfied she ever felt in her life.  

She knew they weren’t awake yet; she could both feel and hear their even breathing as well as the hot, tangled mess of their limbs with hers.  

The silent flashing of her phone caught her eye, and she turned to see who was calling her.  

Work.

Gently, slowly, she pulled from their web and answered the line, with a whisper. “Yes? Oh, I see. Really? Now? But I— I understand.” She sighed in defeat as she hung up.

“Who was that?” Theo’s muffled voice came from under a pillow.

Blaise was eyeing her, but didn’t say anything.

Nervously, she chewed her lips and made a face. “I need to go into work. Old case was reopened and no one else can work on it but me. Incompetent areseholes,” she pouted. Her mobile dropped to the floor, and she crawled to Theo and greeted him with a proper good morning kiss; she then turned to Blaise.

“Are you sure I can’t help? We are in the same department after all. Was I on the case?” Blaise asked, trying to be sympathetic.

“No. Don’t worry. It’s handled.” She booped him on the nose and smiled.

Theo snuggled up behind her and whispered in her ear, “You can go into work, but say you’ll be late.”

She turned her head. “Oh, and what’s my excuse?”

Blaise wrapped his arm around the both of them and said, “Research. You’re researching pureblood courtship and how brilliant marriage law is.”  

“Oh, is that so?” she asked cheekily.

“I can make a compelling argument,” Blaise drawled.

“And I can present the evidence.” Theo licked the side of her neck and caused her to purr.

“Counsel, you may have the floor,” she joked haughtily.

“You heard her, Blaise. The floor it is.”

**—OoO—**

Hermione, Theo and Blaise had spent a great deal of time over the last six months together, and everything felt so natural.  She continued to date them separately, but she prefered when they engaged as a group.  Through it all, Hermione’s feelings had grown to the point that she knew she loved them both and was nearly certain that they loved her back, but she was running out of time.  In three months, the Marriage Law would come into effect, and neither had hinted at proposal.  

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Polygamy was such a strange concept. Sure Blaise and Theo enjoy threesomes, but marriage? On the one hand, it seemed unfair to her to saddle two wizards with one witch and them having to share.  On the other, she found it a rather exciting to have two handsome husbands at her call.  

**—OoO—**

Her men surprised her with an exotic holiday. They arranged everything — all she needed to pack was a toothbrush. They planned on spoiling her rotten and show her what the life of a well-cared for wife of a pureblood was like.

It was over a week of whirlwind travel that included a stop at the magical library in Cairo, Egypt, where she spent three days of reading archives and making notes of Babylonian text. Knowing that their lady love could easily spend the remainder of their holiday there, Blaise and Theo pulled her from the library’s clutches.  Next, they had landed in New York; she wasn’t excited about touring until she discovered the rich, secretive history side of Wizarding New York. After meeting some of their counterparts at MACUSA, they were ready to leave the hustle and bustle.

Next on their American tour was the Southwest to visit the magical Indian reservations.  It was an amazing experience where she walked away with a sense of peace and a new respect for magical Healers.  

Their final destination was the Maldives. Hermione she was beyond happy—she was content. She was surrounded by beauty on the shore of a tropical island, with her men beside her on an enormous blanket.

Blaise took it upon himself to rub oil on her legs; his hands gently rising higher and higher. Her eyes closed while she relished in his sensual touch.  As his hands made their way to her nexus, she felt her body warm and her center clench in response. Soon his nimble fingers tugged at the ties that barely kept her bikini bottom in place. A second pair of hands removed her top, leaving her nude and wanting.

The  three made love on the secluded beach, giving and taking, kissing and licking, pushing and pulling.

In their afterglow, Blaise faced her and trailed his fingers up from her arm, to her neck and jawline. A stray curl covered one of her big brown eyes. Theo kissed the glistening sweat off the back of her neck and shoulders.

Hermione gave Blaise a chaste kiss. "I love you," and turned to kiss her other lover, "and I also love you. No more. No less."

"You are everything," Theo professed.

"You make us complete," Blaise cooed into her neck.

They laid there and gazed in each others eyes—they knew—this was it. What they had was perfect. It was strange and unconventional, but they couldn’t imagine it any other way. When their bodies connected, it wasn’t just carnal lust, it was as though their destinies were entwined. They loved each other.

With the warm sun on her skin and the lethargy of being completely satisfied, Hermione was the verge of nodding off.

Theo cleared his throat, and Blaise sat up.

She opened her eyes and met the dark sensuous eyes of Blaise, then shifted to meet Theo’s gaze.  Each of them looked expectant and hesitant.

“Hermione,” Theo started, “I – we – love you, and—”

She interrupted.  “Yes?”

Theo realized he was missing something and summoned his shorts.

Blaise picked up where Theo left off, “I love you. Theo loves you. And though this is crazy, this is how we always wanted it. Both of us—with you. Will you marry us?”

The depth of emotion she felt for them couldn’t be described with mere words.

Her pregnant pause was too much for Theo to bear. “Well? Will you do us the honor of being our witch…officially?”

She was nodding before she said yes, and that’s when they each presented her a ring and then a third. When joined together, they interlocked, creating one ring representing their trinity.

“It’s gorgeous!” she gasped, admiring their creativity and the symbolism. She leaned over and kissed them both deeply.

“So you’ll be Mrs. Nott-Zabini?” Theo asking for reassurance.

“Hey, Zabini-Nott,” Blaise smirked.

“Oh, I think I’ll stay Granger, but I’ll make it up by screaming your names for the rest of our lives.”

With a sly smile, Blaise said, “I can live with that.”

“But you haven’t said it yet,” Theo insisted.

“Yes. I’ll marry both of you.”


End file.
